


Head Over the Fumes

by Lukas17



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukas17/pseuds/Lukas17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cisco was a kid he thought blown up cauldrons and evil wizards would be a much more common occurrence.</p>
<p>Hartmon Week: Harry Potter AU</p>
<p>*Un-betaed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head Over the Fumes

**Author's Note:**

> As someone over twenty I have to admit to reading way too many Hogwarts AU's. Thankfully the prompt was Harry Potter AU, not Hogwarts AU.
> 
> LOOPHOLE.

Coffee grounds were an American add on to the classic pepper up potion. Cisco assumed it was a direct response to the entire issue with tax on tea and sugar and whatever it was Americans and Britain's fought over back in the stone age. Despite it's effectiveness the British wizard across the pot tisked as if it said something rude in front of a ten year old.

“If you don't mind, once you're finished I would like to brew a pepper up potion for my colleagues.” The man said, idly thumbing through the magazines without moving pictures Cisco kept on his desk. “This work they're doing for you Americans is quite demanding after all.”

“I made enough for everyone. They should be fine.”

The man's nose crinkled, if Cisco had to guess it was because the coffee grounds made the potion smell a little more nutty smelling. The one time he took British pepper up it was a flavorless concoction with little zing. He wanted his guys to actually stay awake in the field, not slightly-less-tired.

“I will check on your polyjuice.”

That polyjuice had been on the burner for twenty days and was a pale purple color. The British man raised his wand uncertainly and let it hang for a few moments as he thought about what he should do. Eventually he lowered his wand and pocketed it. The polyjuice was fine, Cisco knew just from experience. If the British dude messed it up he would have mixed half of it in with the man's shampoo.

If he flicked his wrist the next round of ingredients would fly from the shelves and mix themselves in. Instead he sat as his seat and let the British man try his hand at helping, and simply knocked any wrong ingredient or measurement out of his hand before it entered the pot. That seemed to unnerve the man, he would reach for his wand when his hand suddenly became empty and than watch as the right ingredient was plopped in.

There wasn't much reason for the man to stay, so Cisco soon found himself alone in his brewing office. He settled in his seat and turn the radio that was across the room on. With classic rock helping him he finished the last of the ordered potions and settled down to write his reports.

Report writing was literally the most boring part of his work. He had to give detailed updates for everything brewing and whatever he finished. Like always he settled into his usual report writing position, reclining his chair all the way back and setting his hands behind his head and far away from a pencil. No one expected his reports before four, and he wasn't about to raise the bar by being early all of the sudden.

“You're certainly relaxed.”

Cisco didn't even sit up. This wasn't exactly an unusual occurance.

“It's the fumes Hartley. Just stick your head over one and lay down.”

“I'd rather get hot boxed with no-maj drugs.” Which was to say he would hate it. Hartley liked to keep his distance from no-maj's if only because magic was so ingrained in his every day life that going out of his way to make no-maj friends was a waste of time.

“I know a guy.” He joked, though not really.

“As fun as that sounds I have a proposition for you.” Hartley rested a relatively thin folder on top of Cisco's head. That was a little unusual, Cisco wasn't completely sure how things worked at the hospital, but he was fairly certain that any experiment Hartley ran would have enough notes to fill a text book. He slid the folder from his head, and before he could actually open it two tickets fell out.

That got him out of his seat. “How did you get these?” He yelled. “How did you afford these?” He yelled even louder.

Hartley was a little too red, and his grin was a little too big.

“I'll tell you, but only if you treat me to a two hour lunch and some dragon egg soup.”

Cisco wrapped both his arms around Hartley's left, hand still clutching the tickets. “Fine, fine. Just as long as the second hour isn't too rough I still have to sit and finish this up.”


End file.
